


Orange is the New Blue

by deb-indycar-fan (debirlfan)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Exciting People You Meet In Prison, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 17:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19949965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debirlfan/pseuds/deb-indycar-fan
Summary: You never know who you'll meet....





	Orange is the New Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sholio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/gifts).



I'll be the first to admit that I've done some things in my life that I shouldn't have. I got into drugs as a teen, and, well, pretty soon I had a habit to support. I shoplifted a bunch of stuff. Initially it was small things. CDs, jewelry, anything that I could slip in a pocket or slide into the front of my shirt and sell for a few bucks.

Eventually I got bolder. One day I walked out of Walmart with a 50 inch flat screen smart television. Got away with it, too. 

It wasn't enough. I ripped off a gas station in the middle of the night, the next day I hit a convenience store in the middle of the afternoon. Pretty soon it wasn't about the money. I let my fence kept most of the proceeds. I got addicted to the rush; the adrenaline was a better drug than anything I'd been using. 

The jobs got too big for one person to do alone. I recruited a driver. He'd wait outside with the car running while I went in and scored. It wasn't all cash and merchandise. A company that I won't name wanted some trade secrets from a competitor. I got them what they wanted.

I had a couple close calls with the police, but I always managed to slip away. Some of the jobs I pulled were seriously pushing my luck, and deep down, I think I knew I'd eventually get caught. In hindsight, I really should have known better than to try ripping off a casino.

Prison was an eye-opening experience. In all my crimes, I'd never physically hurt anyone. I'd threatened, I'd waved a gun around, I'd even shot into a ceiling once or twice, but beyond giving them a good scare, I'd never actually hurt anyone. 

That wasn't true of a lot of the people I was locked up with. Some of those guys were seriously bad dudes, who'd as soon shank you as look at you. Most of those you could spot, if not by the gang tattoos, then by the way they walked and their general demeanor. Others were pretty average guys. They'd just found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time, or had made a bad decision. A lot of them just looked scared.

Before I go on, I should explain that I never watched much television in prison. Some of the guys were glued to it, but mostly I studied and worked out. Because of that, I didn't know too much about what was going on in the outside world.

It was a Tuesday that they brought the new guy in. He was pretty average, middle aged, short hair, no visible tats. I probably wouldn't have paid much attention to him if I he hadn't kept looking at me as if he recognized me.

“Do I know you?” I finally asked.

“I don't think so, but I know you. You're the one who knocked over the Atlantic casino.”

I laughed at that. “Well, tried to, at any rate.” I extended a hand. “Dave Fowler.”

He shook my hand. A firm, no nonsense grip, without being overbearing. “Matt Wheeler.”

The name sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place it. Perhaps it was something I'd heard in passing. I didn't think much of it, and we chatted about my attempted robbery of the casino and about what I would have done with the cash if I'd succeeded until it was time for evening lock down.

I'd no more than stepped into my cell before Ray, my cell mate grabbed me and tugged me the rest of the way inside. Wide-eyed, he demanded, “Do you know who that is that you were talking to?”

And that, my friends, is how I made the acquaintance of Matt Wheeler, serial killer and former state trooper.


End file.
